


Anything for you; the world, as well

by Ser_Renity



Series: Post-Canon [11]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically character appreciation, F/F, Fix-It, Gen, Orihime POV, POV Second Person, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:58:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7811698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ser_Renity/pseuds/Ser_Renity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A journey follows another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything for you; the world, as well

**Author's Note:**

> Heya. 
> 
> So there is a lot I wanna say about Bleach ending but this fic is what I feel the most strongly about. I wrote this a few hours ago because I made the mistake to check Orihime's tag yesterday and people are gross, so very gross.
> 
> This sorta follows a line of canon I developed in "Ricochet" so some references to that will only make sense if you know about those flashback parts. I think it is readable as a stand-alone anyway, though.
> 
> This isn't about any het ships, by the way, I dislike all of them but would not go and attack anyone directly for shipping them. Rukihime is about rukihime only, not about anything else. I ship them because I love them together and love them both as characters, not as a sidenote to any other ship or a way to discredit other ships. 
> 
> This is the fix-it I needed for my favorite character, Inoue Orihime, and something that means a lot to me personally, especially in relation to her self-confidence.  
> Thanks for understanding.

* * *

 

 

You didn’t know when or how or where you fell in love with Rukia- but you knew why, of course.

  
It started somewhere far back; so far back, in fact, that you could hardly remember those years as separate concepts as you grew older.

 

* * *

 

 

At first, however, you liked to remember the beginning of the story.

 

* * *

 

 

Your life had always been about war, you mused on those days where you felt melodramatic.

  
Being at war with the world with only your brother to protect you, being at war with Aizen and his Arrancar army where Ichigo Kurosaki emerged as your magical savior. Then, of course, the Quincy emperor and his clash with all the worlds.

  
However, after all this time and all your resolve it had been that last stretch where you realized that you still relied on others- which was not a bad thing in and of itself. It took you years to notice your wish for someone to save you was born from a lack of self-confidence inherent to your nature.

  
But really, you thought as you lay awake in your bed the first night after Yhwach fell, what did you care about what the world tried to dictate for you?

 

* * *

 

 

“A roadtrip?” Ishida asked you, visibly confused and adjusting his glasses in an attempt to hide it, “Inoue, I am not sure-”

  
“Well, you have a day to decide,” you interrupted him cheerfully, “Whatever you choose to do, it’s fine. But I would like you to come with us.”

  
“ _Us_?”

  
“Sado already gave his okay.”

  
You left him standing in his doorway, still confused.

  
“Don’t forget to pack a toothbrush!” you called out over your shoulder from the stairs. Only then did you hear the door close.

 

* * *

 

 

Something about the concept of a roadtrip always seemed magical to you- as if nothing could go wrong because the idea itself was impervious to harm.

  
It didn’t work out immediately. There were rainy days and those when you were terribly short on money- others when there was no work anywhere in the towns you visited and even more that had you lost on train stations scattered around countrysides.

  
But if you learned anything from your battles it was that sometimes it had to get worse to get better- so you told your two traveling companions it would work out, it would all be okay. It was not always easy to keep up but the first time you were too tired to cheer them on Sado wrapped an arm around you, squeezed your side.

  
“You don’t have to hide to protect us, Inoue,” Ishida said quietly, not quite as good with the comforting touches, “You don’t have to give yourself up for others.”

  
It was an astute observation, of course, and it was the first time you cried yourself to sleep since you felt Rukia’s reiatsu vanish in Hueco Mundo.

  
The next morning you felt better; bleary and a little gross but better nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

 

Many people didn’t give Sado any credit because he was quiet rather than outspoken about his ideas. His patience was endless with them, too, but you knew there was gratification in proving others wrong about you.

  
You saw it in his eyes, too, when he spoke to people in their native language in countries you had barely heard the name of. It was something you knew he loved- all languages, really, his own two at the top but many others right below. It was that quiet confidence that got you out of sticky situations sometimes- just like your charming smile and Ishida’s cold logic.

  
Sado made notes and sketches about the architecture, the landscapes, the words on road signs you saw on your journey.

  
“It’s about time we explore the world we saved,” he said once, letting that humor show that many were surprised he possessed.

  
Quiet never meant not intelligent, quiet never meant not willing to share his ideals.

  
He told you and Ishida about an idea he had- _a weird one, don’t laugh._

  
You laughed; but only because you were happy and you told him as much.

  
Sado cared so deeply about things, gave his all in protecting them. Hearing he was interested in going into politics _was_ unexpected but you liked it nevertheless- you could see him and his knowledge and empathy going far, wished him the best from the bottom of your heart.

 

* * *

 

 

Ishida was quiet in the beginning, polite but distant as if he was not truly present in your time.

  
He didn’t share his worries for a long time and neither you nor Sado pressured him to. After all, you had been at war. There was no need to rush among friends, no need to push for painful memories.

  
“Do you even think of me as your friend?” he asked then, one day, scared and looking so much younger again.

  
It was his breaking point, you supposed, if you had to assign a literary device to it. Ishida had felt alone among the ranks of the Vandenreich, assuming the identity of the traitor for the sake of the world.

  
He told you about the time he found his father digging through the corpse of his mother in search of a hint to the weakness of the Quincy emperor.

  
“I can’t be a doctor,” he said into the hollow of his hands that he hid his face behind, “Not with that on my mind whenever I see any exposed skin. All I see is blood and it’s just red, just red.”

  
There was pressure on him to follow in his father’s footsteps and work his hardest towards something he barely wanted.

  
“I think you need to heal, first,” Sado told him, “Maybe therapy is a good idea. Everything else can come after that.”

  
Ishida was ashamed of being a Quincy after what the others did to the worlds- but you reminded him that he was not them, had never been defined by something that was so undefinable.

  
Later, way later when you long since returned home, he told you that he contacted the few renegade survivors of the Vandenreich who lived in the human world. He seemed calm about it, acknowledged them as people and himself as not rotten to the core.

  
You hugged him then and he didn’t tense up as much as he used to.

  
By the time you went to return to your hometown, however, Ishida had just learned how to laugh again- just a little more careless, just a little more alive.

  
It was a start.

 

* * *

 

 

And you?

  
You wore clothes that flowed around you, with flower patterns and bright colors. There were times when you hid yourself because your distant relatives shamed you for looking the way you did- _because it would be indecent for a young lady to dress differently_. It wasn’t your fault, had never been your fault that others objectified and hated you for your body. You remembered feeling terrible about even declining the outfit Urahara offered you as a joke- before Yoruichi punched him and told you that it was not your fault, you could say _no_.

  
So you did what _you_ wanted- danced in your beautiful new dresses on dusty streets and tasted cheap food offered by street vendors. Who cared what others wanted for you? You could get by because you were strong, you were good, you had always been beautiful.

  
It made you so happy you could cry even in those moments when you went to sleep hungry or the one time you were almost robbed in a dark street.

  
“You look ill,” you told the shivering man, “Let me heal you.”

  
And that was there, too, always- your power.

  
On the worst of days you remembered killing the Quincy elite in the Soul King’s palace, the first time you used your power to end a life instead of saving it.

  
No one but you blamed you for acting that way and it was the Hollows who finally made you realize it was alright to defend yourself and your people.

  
“You would have died,” Nel told you, “There was no other way.”

  
“He wouldn’t’ve listened,” Grimmjow added with a shrug, “Not like some of the others, I guess.”

  
But it was Rukia who took your hand and led you away from the fighting.

  
“You are so, so good,” she said as she hugged you and let you cry about an enemy you never even knew, “And you were strong before you knew how to kill.”

  
Yoruichi later told you the same thing again and it was something you cherished, a memory to hold on to when times were tough.

 

* * *

 

 

Rukia was there, too, when you returned from your journey. She had agreed to water the few flowers in your flat sometimes as long as you were gone.

  
“Hey,” she said to you and smiled, “How was your trip?”

  
“I love you,” you told her with barely any air to breathe.

 

* * *

 

 

You adopted a pet together, of course you did.

  
MrMcTruffles the rabbit loved to see the outside world from within a backpack whenever you took him along.

  
“You have a Hollow rabbit,” Renji pointed out as he saw the huge animal in your bag once, “I don’t know why I am still surprised.”

 

* * *

 

 

Your aunt who paid for you out of obligation rather than a sense of familial closeness didn’t like who you were when the war ended.

  
“I don’t approve of your lifestyle,” she told you, “If you do not change it, I am afraid I will have to stop supporting you.”

  
“Oh, that’s okay,” you told her and there it was, that feeling of _proving them wrong_ , “I have been accepted into a school for engineering with a full scholarship. Thank you for all you have done for me but I think I can hold my own from now on.”

 

* * *

 

 

You had your whole life ahead of you- as the person you always wanted to be, as someone with a lifetime to try out everything you could ever want. Drawing an terrible painting here, singing off-key- it was all the magic you needed.

 

* * *

 

 

“I love you too,” Rukia told you and her eyes shone, “I love you so, so much.”

 

* * *

 


End file.
